Every Bridge I Ever Built
by archiveidiotjello
Summary: Red-head. Cute, he thinks, in a nerdy way. Questionable fashion taste. Very questionable morals. Dr Horrible does not want to make the choice.


**_A/N: _**For a comedic musical, DHSAB has a lot of dark themes...

* * *

There's a small fire burning inside of him, growing bigger and bigger as his thoughts keep turning to that day at the laundromat with Captain Hammer. The jackass, talking about Penny as if she were nothing but a...but a...bargaining chip _(pawn! whore! faceless sex doll!). _With each new demeaning name that invades his mind, a swell of anger rips through his body, sending his hands shaking. He sucks his cheeks in, trying to contain the burn of his anger. He does not dare to let the fire out - that is never good. _(Not that he particularly excels to be good, very much not so in fact.) _

Rage like that will only set his work back, and he can't risk losing this momentum of productivity. He swears he's never been this productive on a project in his life, and the thought of success _(finally) _literally brings a smile to his face. Success. He says the word aloud, tasting it. It slips from his lips, rough and hoarse, the product of working for hours without bothering to drink. Still, it sounds - hopeful and soaring, and he smiles. So close. He could change the world, overthrow this terrible system is so very obviously not working. It would be extraordinary.

He thoughts fall to Penny _(something that happens too often for his liking)_. Sweet Penny. Penny, who works at homeless shelter and numerous other charities. Penny, who believes there to be good in every heart. Penny, who always looks on the bright side.

_"You idiot," _he hisses, the sound sharp and berating in his lab's stuffy air. "You-you _idiot!_" He grabs something off his workbench - he does not know what it is _(another idiotic decision)_ and throws it to the ground with a bang and clatter. He shakes, furious ripples wracking his body as the fire thrashes and struggles to be released. He contains it, sighing.

Even if he did defeat Captain Hammer and be successful in ruling the world, how could that possibly get him the girl? Somehow, he didn't think killing the boyfriend of a girl that values goodness more than anything would get him many brownie points. It was more likely she'd run, screaming. And where would that leave him? With the whole world at his feet, with access to anything he ever desired, and completely alone. The years stretch before his eyes, and he shudders once more. He wouldn't even be able to disguise himself as Billy anymore. _(Not that Billy was a disguise. Doctor Horrible and Billy were one and the same. He may be evil and awkward but he did not have multiple personalities). _

Those minutes, hours, days at the laundromat would be lost to him forever. Wednesdays and Saturdays and awkward mumbling and frozen yogurt, lost. Those few hours had been the only hours that given him any real hope or happiness while he had been unsuccessful with villainy. Was he really willing to just give all of it up? To give Penny up?

Because that was his choice. Right here, right now, at this exact _(Well. Not precisely.) _moment in time - this was the pivot point. Before, he had thought the two to be hand-in-hand, he had been so sure Penny would be impressed by his Evilness, and he had been wrong. It was a choice, it had always been a choice, and it was time to acknowledge that.

Penny or his goals, dreams, everything he ever wanted; success.

"Everything I ever," he murmurs.

0000

She sits on the counter of the coin wash laundromat, one frozen yogurt in hand, the other sitting dejectedly in front of her as it melts. It's Saturday, and her laundry is long done, and he's not here. He's always been here, and she's even pretty sure he changed his schedule to match hers. It would be endearing, but it's not now, because his yogurt is melting. She swallows about gulp of yogurt, and can't help the old familiar feeling of abandonment creep up her throat.

It's ridiculous. He's never promised anything to her. She has no business feeling abandoned. It's not like he was boyfriend or anything, or that they were even particularly good friends. Just the smallest of crushes, and he's left her staring miserably at yogurt and turning her head every time the door jingles open. She exhales, and can't believe that she's mad at him. Trying not to think about it, she glances at her watch, and sighs once more. It's nearly closing time.

_He's not coming, _she tells herself, and slips off the counter to gather her things. As she turns, she comes face-to-face with a nervous blonde, and it's him.

"Billy!" She nearly shouts, drawing a few glances. Lowering her voice, "Um, I mean, hi. Hi. Uh..." She looks him up and down, anywhere but his face, and finds him suspiciously lacking of his usual clothes basket. "Where's your laundry?" She makes the mistake of looking him in the eye, and finds herself quite unable to look away. His gaze is fierce, more determined than she's ever seen the bumbling man, and it's more than enough to set her off-balance.

"I didn't come here to wash my clothes. I came to see you." The words fall from his lips easier than Penny would've expected them to, and she stares at him, bewildered.

"I...I..." She doesn't have any idea what to say, and he's helpful enough to start talking again.

"I'm smart, Penny. Genius, really." Offense and amusement and shock battle across her expression, and he hastens to add: "Point is, I could build my own washing machine. My own dryer. I could make them into one machine that does that and irons and folds too. It could even make a margarita if I wanted it to. I don't have to come here."

She bites her lip.

"But I do," he says, "Because of you. I come here to do an astoundingly boring chore twice a week because I get to see you." His self confidence gets the best of him, and he reaches out to take her hand. Once it's in his palm, though, he stares at it, as if the situation is just dawning on him. He's really doing this, saying these things to her, and _by god it's_ _terrifying. "_Cause...Cause...I l-like you. I...want to...to be...with you. Or...or...something."

He looks up at her, and he is so vulnerable and truthful, and for a moment she can't think.

Then something that horribly feels like happiness blooms in her chest, and she finds herself quite unable to stop smiling. He smiles, too, and they're both grinning like idiots in the middle of a laundromat. She looks down at their intertwined hands, squeezes them, and her smile broadens, if possible, at the sight of it. She can't think of a time she's smiled this much. She barely knows him, and she falls in love too easily. His expression is euphoric, and it looks a bit strange on him, like diamonds and dirt. It's a perfect moment, and she wishes she could freeze it in time forever. But as moments do, it passes, leaving her with an unsettling thought.

"But-"

Immediately his expression darkens, all traces of humor evaporating and being replaced by stone cold indifference.

"I have the shelter's opening. And it has to be perfect - it just has to. I've worked so hard for this, and it won't work without Captain Hammer. And...he...I...I don't know if I want..."

He drops her hand. "O-okay. I mean, okay. That's...just..." He inhales, struggling for words. He backs away, pale-faced.

She steps forward, grabbing his hand once more. "No! I mean, I just the need the opening to be perfect. I mean - oh god, this sounds completely selfish - but I can't ruin this. I can't let all those people down. Just give me that, please, and then I'll..." She trails off, useless promises swirling between them.

He's still half-turned away from her, eyes glued to the floor. She watches his face anxiously, feeling like dirt for what she's asking of him._ Oh, sure, we can be together and all, just give me two days because I need to use my boyfriend's fame to open a homeless shelter. _God, when had she become so terrible?

With nothing short a miracle _(or love), _he turns back to her. "Okay," he says, resigned. "I...I should get going."

"Do you have to?"

"No."

Ouch. She swallows. "I'm sorry. I really am. I just...you understand?"

He smile without humor. "Of course I do. It's completely..._human _of you." It doesn't sound like a compliment. His fingers slip from hers once more, and he turns to leave in a quiet fury. He's always seemed like the type to be angered easily. She feels even more alone than before.

But it's not the same, because he's inspired a new type of bravery in her, and it's his own words that give her strength to speak up.

0000

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._

He's berating himself again, but for good reason. He thought he'd solved the problem of choosing - by pushing it on to Penny. If she chose him, then he would leave the ELE. _(He's still not quite sure of her, still doesn't know). _If she rejected him, then he would go on with his evil pans for the ceremony. It sounds horrible, which is good. He_ is_ the doctor of it.

But he's not. Not really. He's Billy, and he's a complete _idiot_. Even though in every human heart he saw only black and evil, for some reason he had thought Penny to be different all this time. Penny was good. Penny was innocent.

Except she wasn't. She was just as evil _(small evils) _as the rest of them, selfishly begging him to wait. Why did he ever entertain the thought of giving up his success for such an ordinary, rotten human girl?

Because he loves her, and it kill hims to know that he will wait for her. It's absolutely pathetic, it is. But he can't look at her right now _(her image cracks and the fairytale and romance slips away)_, and he has to leave.

"Don't go," she utters, her confidence hastily diminishing in her words in a matter of milliseconds so that by the end of the the two, tiny words, she's whispering. He stills, and turns once again back to her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but then the loud-mouthed clerk informs them that the coin wash is closing, and could you please leave now. Penny's eyes widen, and grabs her stuff and his hand. She rushes out the door, dragging him behind her.

When they are in a fairly secluded alley, he stops her. Lets go of her hand. She notices immediately, the absence of gentle warmth on her palm stinging and itchy. She already knows what he will say, or perhaps she doesn't at all. She never knows these types of things. It all had been a bit confusing for her at first. Heroes? Villains? You didn't see a hero like Hammer giving out flyers or volunteering at homeless shelter. But Hammer had done so much for her...signed...the petition. And gave her the night of her life. And inspired a series of self-berating self-conscious inner monologues about how she wasn't pretty or interesting or worthwhile as she waited for her clothes to dry. 

So maybe Hammer isn't really the best guy for her.

What she doesn't understand is that why all of a sudden Billy is. Sure, he signed her petition, but he never really volunteered - or shown a great interest in what she did. He _did _go into spiels about how it was wrong, that she was only treating a symptom inch by inch, what the world needed was a big explosion of a wake-up call and you didn't get that sort of reaction by opening a homeless shelter. And even when they weren't talking about politics: she saw it, it was there. He always quietly dismissed her ideas and opinions, treating her like she was a pretty sort of doll that had a habit of voicing terribly irrational and foolish ideas that were never meant to be heeded. The slight condescending tone, the obvious attempt to look interested when she talked about charity. It is all very clear now. He thinks her ideas are juvenile, he doesn't respect her. _(Those months of idle admiration have blinded him of what attracted him to her in the first place, and all he think of is will she won't she.)_

But she likes him. And it's not because of the adorable awkwardness or cute smile. It's not that he has a multitude of ratty Star Wars t-shirts or occasionally does his elderly neighbor's laundry. It's not that he needs her _(she likes to be needed after everything)_, he doesn't know it, but he does. She's noticed the drawn look on his face, the lack of muscle, and the general nonchalance for things like eating, and even occasionally, bathing. He obviously doesn't take care of himself, and she wants to fix that _(wants to be the one to ground him)_, but it's not that either.

He is mislead, she thinks. He doesn't see the good in treating symptoms, that sometimes, that's the only way to deal with the disease. She sees such a potential in him - he could change the world if he wanted to, but he is going down the entirely wrong path with this negativity.

Penny has always had a doctor complex, a habit too persistent to be rid of. She wants to fix him, because he could be brilliant. _(Save lives and cities and invent wonderful, marvelous things)._

__

He stands before her now, his hoodie two sizes too big, and though he wants to talk, he hasn't the foggiest of what to say. It's achingly familiar, and neither of them have a good feeling about this. He wonders what she would say if he revealed his identity to her - Dr Horrible, probably leaving out the Ph.D in Horribleness part - wonders if she's shallow enough to believe in the label of Hero and Villain. He has questions for her, all of them battling their way across his mind and tongue, and it's only completely predictable that something ridiculous and downright irrelevant slips from his mouth first.

"Why do you like Captain Hammer?"

She could say she saw good in him. Or that he was a 'hero'. Or that he was more sexy than Colin Firth and Brad Pitt combined. She doesn't like telling lies. "I wanted to be swept off my feet," she says, "because that's what you fantasize about when your life is going nowhere."

She casts the days at the coin wash aside as going nowhere, and he doesn't blame her, but it still stings.

"Guess I'm not the sweeping type."

"No."

He twitches. "Why do you like me now, then?"

She doesn't want to admit why. She doesn't want to insult him with her ideas of reformation, because she knows he will just put her down again and losing his respect even more so is the last thing she wants to happen. But she doesn't lie. She tries to think she isn't completely selfish. "Because you're cute. And funny. And dorky. And you make me think about things and we talk and debate and I've never done that sort of thing before."

_Never been in that sort of relationship_, she doesn't say, because it sounds too pathetic.

It's the last thing he wants to hear. He always considered those stupid qualities the most irritating things about himself. Those were the quirks that led him to failure all these years, and of course it's those things that Penny loves about him.

He's begin to realize that this is a quite a hopeless matter. They love each other for all the wrong reasons, not to mention the drastically different moralities...but he isn't ready to give up yet. Doctor Horrible never gives up. _(But Billy does.)_

__"And..." she begins again, to his surprise. Penny never initiated communication. "Because you seem like a good guy. You want what's best for the world, I think, and that's much more than Captain Hammer can say. More of a hero, in your own way. I guess." She smiles, nervous, and he feels the dull thud of dread bloom in his stomach.

She still doesn't know.

"Penny, I-" he hesitates, having no idea whatsoever how to phrase: BTW I'm totally a bad guy and have endangered your life at least twice and had nearly planned to do so again near in the future. "I'm not a good guy."

"Well, I know everyone's not perfe-"

"No, I mean. I'm not a good guy. I'm a Villain. You've read my name in the newspapers." She feels her jaw go slack, her eyes widening ever so slightly. He isn't looking at her, hunched over as he glares at the pavement. His head comes up again, but he still doesn't meet her gaze, instead looking past her shoulder. "Dr Horrible, they call me. Well, I call me that. The papers call me 'Weirdo in Goggles Messes Up Again, Punched by Hammer.' Sometimes they call me Dr Horrible, but if only I make a point of spelling out my name for a reporter." He trails off, looking rather displeased at his rather unattractive spout of verbal diarrhea. He's nervous, that is obvious. Revealing that you're a super villain to a potential girlfriend must be stressful.

__

_(Potential girlfriend? She nearly scolds herself, but then realizes she has every right to use that phrase.) _

__

(_No she doesn't. He's a Villain. She can't like a Villain.)_

__

_(But he's cute. And nice. Not your average maniacal terrorizer.)_

__

She has always thought him a bit eccentric (_mumbling numbers and theorums and non-sense chemicals under his breath as he sorts his darks and lights), _very cynical, and a bit pessimistic _(cut off the head of the human race)_,but she had never thought him Evil, as such. A thief? _(stole a hoodie, he admitted, a extra spork, her heart...)_ Maybe. Murderer? Never.

She's never been one to believe in Super Heroes and Super Villains, and it doesn't change today.

"Not a good guy-" he's saying, another pathetic attempt at trying to explain himself.

"I don't think so," she says, and kisses him.

He literally jumps when her lips touch his, and a small panic attack rages in his mind. What if he's not a good kisser? What if this a set-up? A joke? A dream? But the attack wanes, leaving him able to enjoy the kiss properly.

She's soft, and sweet, and smells like detergent, like coming home. And though something dark still breeds inside of him, she's all he's ever wanted. His hands gently grasps her face, his fingers stroking her temples as he deepens the kiss.

Eventually, he has to breath, and they break apart. He doesn't draw back though, needs to be close to her. Her own breath is warm against his cheek, and he's too happy to smile.

"Please," he says, "Please tell me this is real. This is serious, right? You're serious?" He has the saddest desperate lilt to his voice, and it makes her want to kiss him again to erase all his pain. She nods enthusiastically, grinning.

"And Hammer...?"

"What about him?" she breathes, her hand rising to touch his hair. She's always wanted to touch his hair. It's a bit wild and a very sexy shade of dirty blonde and she feels positively giddy. He leans into her touch, his eyes falling closed.

"You're not," her fingers make him falter, "you're not just going to keep going out with him after the ceremony? After this?"

"No."

It's the most beautiful word in the world, so he has to kiss her again.

0000

Red-head. Cute, he thinks, in a nerdy way. Questionable fashion taste. Very questionable morals. That homeless shelter and environment stuff usually didn't go over well in the ELE. Not that the ELE disapproved of their members having, ahem, how they say _intimate relations. _The ELE even supported monogamy, which has to say something about their employment benefits since generally an evil organization of ELE's size would not allow such very nearly good behavior. But this is different, this cute flimsy thing of the Bad Doctor's. She is still affiliated with Captain Hammer, and the League can not risk infiltration.

She brushes her hair out her eyes, and the Doctor nearly drowns her in an adoring look worthy of a preteen vampire chick flick. Fake Jefferson tilts his head, nostalgic. He, too, had once been in love. But that was a long time ago. He had made the choice, and now it is Dr Horrible's turn.

Because, after all, there is still a choice to make.

Jefferson's gaze drifts to the rifle sheathed at his hip. He looks back up to the couple, and a smile blooms across his face, his long white teeth gleaming almost like a horse's in the late afternoon sun.


End file.
